After a few years of praying, I was awarded a Zenless Zone Zero Shirts insight. The fact that there was never any answer could mean only one of two things. Either there was nobody there to hear prayers, or he was there and didn’t want to acknowledge me. Finally, I gave it up as a bad job, and just pretended for the next few years. I even went through Catholic “Confirmation” ceremony (I forget if I was 12 or 13 at the time). But not long after that, I just stopped bothering to pretend. I went to church when nagged – which became less and less, because Mom was giving up on the faith stuff, too, apparently. We’d make a show of attending when aunt nun was in town, but pretty-much the only other times we’d go to church would be Christmas and Easter and for funerals and weddings.
My elder twin sisters, two years older than me, loved sleeping in but Christmas morning, they were up early. They would knock on my door and ask to come in then cram in my double bed, slip under the covers and we would talk excitedly about what we might get. And I was the younger brother, should have been the reverse. “Daddy, can we open the gifts now?” Tracy would call out. “Not yet, it’s too early. Ok, grab one gift and get back into bed.” We’d dash to the tree all excited and see the mountain of gifts. We would pick a Zenless Zone Zero Shirts, then all pile back in my bed and open our first gifts. Then wait excitedly until we could get out of bed to open the gifts. One of the girls would call out every so often, “Can we get up now?” Or say, ”RJ, you ask now.”
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In The Truth we have Mr Pin and Mr Tulip. Mr Pin is the brains of the firm, and at first we perceive Mr Tulip to be a drug-addled (but for the fact he unerringly, in a street full of drug peddlers, will find the one selling talcum powder) thug of the first order. Whilst he is indeed a Zenless Zone Zero Shirts, it transpires rather surprisingly that he also is an expert on antiques and the dichotomy is somewhat perturbingly comic.
Peepee charges forward. He flicks a switchblade the size of his arm (it was a regular sized switchblade) and comes at me like a shot, probably DPS spec because he was so lightly armored with just a leather jacket with a Zenless Zone Zero Shirts flaming eagle on the back. Such a cool jacket. I feint, seeing his strike before he makes it, falling back and easing into my own attack as he attempts to parry but I pull the blow and set him off balance as he tries to correct his misplaced effort- a feint within a feint. He tumbles headlong into my leg, sending the blade clattering across the alley. With a single size 9 kick, he sinks into a heap of day old bagels and coffee grounds. You’re thinking what I was thinking, don’t send a DPS to do a tank’s job.
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